Gotham High
by MetallicGecko
Summary: My interpretation of what Gotham High may have been like. Harleen Quinzel has recently moved to Gotham, and enrolls at Gotham High, where she meets many of Gotham's teenage lunatics.
1. Chapter 1

**GOTHAM** **HIGH**

1433 Sorkin Street, Gotham – Harleen Quinzel's new home. A cream painted, brick, semi – detached, reasonably old house, in a moderate part of East Gotham, with a white picked fence surrounding it and the small garden.

No matter how happy and friendly and bright Bensonhurst had been, Gotham had seemed wilder and brighter. Harleen had been glad to move there with her parents, regardless of the high crime rate.

The only down side was that both were fairly glum, with a lower chance of sunshine, and a higher chance of cold winds and rain. It didn't look as if she was going to get much tanning for her pale skin.

Jenny and Maria, her old friends back in Brooklyn, had whined when she had mentioned having to move away, but she found she hardly missed them, how cruel it may seem. She would make some new friends, anyway. She would just join a few clubs, especially science and cheerleading, she was good at those, and she would fit right in.

But was it really that easy?

She remembered the tough times she had trying to fit in before: not being comfortable with herself, being teased and forced to be alone, being laughed at, being made into a loner. Though she had dealt with it before, hadn't she? And Gotham High, what she had been told was her new school, was definitely going to be better than her old one.

Gotham High was a high school in the centre of North Gotham, which meant Harleen would have to take the public bus to get there, as some of the pupils had wrecked the school bus a few years back and the transport had stopped being provided. It was okay though, she was 15, she would survive a half-hour bus journey.

The house was great, in her opinion. It didn't matter that the doors all creaked or that the kitchen smelled of drugs, only that it was bigger than their apartment in Brooklyn, and their was more than one bedroom, so she didn't have to share with her annoying little brother. She really should have got her own bedroom sooner, with her being a girl and all, so she could change in peace.

Her bedroom was red of course, her favourite colour, and decorated with the many posters she had collected and brought over when she moved. It was mostly indie rock bands that no one had really heard of since 2005, but she loved then anyway. Her bed was wooden, and the mattress was covered by a white sheet and pink polka dot bed, and almost completely taken over with cushions and teddy bears. She mostly often wore a vanilla perfume, and applied it in her bedroom, so this one, and the one back in Bensonhurst, smelled strongly of sweet vanilla.

Her brother, Barry, was 13, and at the peak of his puberty age. He was an inch or so taller than her (which was an understatement as Harleen was stuck at 5" 5), covered in acne, with greasy brunette hair, and a voice like nails on a chalkboard.

She lifted the final box through the door and over to her parents. It contained lamps and wires for the lights, as they had been sitting in the dark for hours waiting for the rest of their furniture to deliver. Her mother kept rambling on that the delivery truck could have been robbed or hijacked, until her father assured her that no one would want to steal their crappy stuff.

"Thanks, Harley." Her mother said, sipping her herbal tea. Her dark brown hair was tied up messily, failing to hide the hideous white hairs coming through. Her face was bare from makeup, as it was raining outside and it was pointless putting it on, and showed the dark bags under her eyes from trying to set up the house all night, and her sore eyes, that were usually hidden behind glasses.

Her father was an average height, as was her mother, and was a beer bellied man with a happy smile. He was completely white haired, being in his 50s, but he held a hand to his creased forehead as he looked over the paperwork. He had been overworked, having to balance his new job and moving across these two days.

Harleen took the kettle off the boil and poured it onto her coffee grains in her mug. She stirred it and silently nodded to her parents, then heading past the stairs to the lounge. Everything was covered by a white sheet, which looked odd, but she simply moved one aside and sat down on the sofa.

The coffee was in her favourite mug – a Looney Tunes one, though she only used it when no one but her family were around, or they would think of her as more of a child. She was a little immature and childish at times, but she didn't want to give that impression as soon as she moved to Gotham. She was going to 'grow up'.

Putting her feet up and leaning back, Harleen sighed, snuggling into her special fluffy pink cushion. She liked to pretend it was her boyfriend and talk to it quietly. As if she would ever get a boyfriend – she was more interested in getting a good grade and earning a successful job. Lovey-dovey relationships didn't last anyway, and was more of a distraction, she thought. Her parents had been in relationships with other people and look at what they had ended up with: no degrees, minimum wage jobs that could only just pay for their monthly food, heating and bills.

Her brother was staying away at their grandparents nearby in Metropolis, until the house was fully finished. She had been sleeping on the cold floor in her bedroom while waiting for the mattress to arrive, and her mother had refused to make Barry do the same. Child cruelty, she thought.

She smirked at nothing in particular and ran a hand through her hair. Stretching out her toes, she cracked them and pointed her feet. She pulled her left leg up to point towards the ceiling; being predominantly left handed and legged as she was, and felt the pull in her hamstring. She exercised and stretched everyday so she wouldn't wake up one morning and find she could no longer do a split.

She had always been flexible, and she aspired to be even more so. Her family had never been able to keep paying for gymnastics classes, so she taught herself. She wondered if Gotham High, unlike her last, would have a gymnastics club, so she could learn from a professional. Hearing her leg stretch further, she sighed in contempt and lowered it back onto the floor.

A knock came at the door. She put her mug down on a coaster and slumped over to answer the door, seen as no one else was going to.

Harleen must have looked a mess as she opened that door: dyed hay blonde hair done up in a bun, with most of it falling out of the tie, and smudged pastel pink lip-gloss on her blue pyjama shirt and shorts, and only one bunny slipper on her feet. "Mmm, hello?" she murmured, wiping her lids, but her eyes widened as she saw who stood on the doorstep.

It was a man, a woman and a boy, most likely a family. The man had a permanent glare on his face and she couldn't help looking at his mouth, where two long scars led from the corners of his mouth to his cheeks, in a ghastly Cheshire grin. The boy had his head down and his hands in his pockets, as he shielded his face from her view. The woman was trying her best to smile, and held a bundle of treats in a basket.

"Oh, hello there, you must be the new neighbours. We're the Napiers from next door." the woman greeted, beaming. She motioned to the bundle. "We brought you and your family something to welcome you to the neighbourhood."

"Oh, right." Harleen replied, scratching her neck. "I'll... err... get my parents. Please, come in."

She stood back inside and beckoned them in, awkwardly, and shut the door behind them. "Ma, Dad! The new neighbours are here!" she yelled, and they all gathered in the lounge.

"This is my daughter, Harleen, and I do have a 13 year old son, but he's currently out." Mrs Quinzel introduced, holding out a hand to point to Harleen.

Mrs Napier smiled. "You're very pretty, Harleen." she complimented and Harleen blushed.

Mrs Quinzel told her to go sit with the boy, who was probably a few years older that her, but nevertheless she was expected to talk to him. He was strangely attractive, extremely pale and sickly looking, with tufts of Manic Panic green dyed hair, which matched the colour of his lifeless green eyes.

Her mother chuckled and smiled. "Oh, thank you for the welcoming, Mrs Napier, moving to an entirely new city knowing no one can be a difficult experience, especially with children." she thanked, sitting down on the sofa.

Mrs Napier grinned and nodded. "No need, I try to be as friendly as I can with the newcomers. When the youngsters here were murdered, I hoped for a nicer family to live next to us. They were a pain, though my darling Jack didn't follow that route." she mentioned. She tried to pat the boy, Jack, on the head, but he flinched away.

She continued. "Jack, sweetie, why don't you take Harleen up to her room and talk, away from us adults?" she inquired, smiling at him.

He scowled back at her and stood up from the sofa, glancing at Harley and heading up the stairs. He almost stood a foot over her, which was slightly intimidating, and his lanky form towered over her lithe one. They sat down on her polka dot bed in silence.

He didn't seem to want to make contact with her, as he kept his eyes pointed towards the floor, while he cracked his knuckles violently. He had a strange aura, and she felt honestly very intimidated by it.

"So, Jack..." she started, but she cut off as he grasped her around the neck.

His voice was articulate and calming. "Don't call me that, no one is allowed to call me that." he growled into her ear, grinning. She nodded and he released her, before bursting out laughing. "Oh your face!" He chuckled and slapped his knee. "Your face was just classic!"

She held her sore neck in confusion. "Then what am I supposed to call you?" she asked, her voice thin and shaking.

He leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. "The Joker, the Ace of Knaves, the Prince of Crime. Anyone is good." he replied, with a twitch as he licked the corners of his lips.

Harleen couldn't keep back a smirk, no matter how dangerous this boy was. "I am not calling you that, what are you some kind of clown?" she queried, tilting her head.

"Exactly." he purred, flicking out his knife. "And you will, or I'll carve a smile in your face."

She glared as his arm came about her shoulder and pinned the knife up against her cheek. "I ain't gonna." she replied.

He did nothing to reply but place the knife closer.

"I ain't gonna." she repeated.

"And why is that?" he asked.

She looked him in the eyes. "I'm willing to bet that I could permanently stop you having babies before that blade hits my flesh." she added, raising her knee a little.

He looked at her eyes back and they filled with a sort of adrenaline. Slowly, he took the knife from her face and replaced it in his pocket. "You're either crazy, or really stupid to taunt me, little girl." he laughed, baring his white teeth in a large smile.

"A little bit of both, most likely." she answered, breathing out in relief.

Mrs Napier called for Jack and he stood up from the bed, before grinning at her. "I **like** you, Harley." he chucked, before rushing downstairs after his parents.

She blushed after him and checked her cheek, where there was nothing but a tiny graze. "Bye, Mr Joker."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Hey, wait a sec!" Harleen yelled, as she scooped up her navy satchel, holding her clothes, and leaped out of the door. She had seen a teenage girl in a pastel green dress and heels walk by the house, in the direction of the bus station, and suspected she was a student at Gotham High too.

She had selected to wear a red and black jacket and white dress, as it seemed warmer that day, unlike the last few days that week. Her face was mostly bare from makeup, apart from a red lipstick, and her cheap French manicure.

That morning, she had arisen at 5:30, which was unusual, step into the shower for around ten minutes, dry and get dressed, and then sat in the corner rocking back and forth for the remaining amount of time. She had always had problems with paranoia and hyperventilation.

The girl turned at the voice, and was surprisingly stunningly beautiful. Not that Harleen was into girls. She had pale gleaming green eyes, accentuated by long eyelashes, a straight nose and lips that almost looked as if she had had some surgery done. Her skin was blushed green almost, albeit it may have been the light from the sky.

"Hmm?" she said, flicking her fire red hair over her shoulder. She smiled, oddly.

Harleen caught up with her and suddenly felt awkward at the height difference because of the other girl's heels. She beamed back, nevertheless. "Do you go to Gotham High?" she asked, rather timidly.

The girl grinned and nodded. "Sad to be, but yeah. Your first day?" she asked, heels clicking as she walked.

Harleen nodded also and adjusted her hair, which was simply put up in a ponytail, and let her gangs fall out. She then snapped out of her thoughts and stuck out her hand. "Harleen Frances Quinzel, just moved here. Can I walk with you?" she requested.

The girl clicked her tongue and grinned. "Pamela Lillian Isley. People call me Ivy. And sure." she replied, coolly.

Harleen looked down at her feet and then looked back up. "People call me Harley. And thanks for waiting, I didn't really want to walk down to the station alone... or with my other neighbour."

Pamela popped a piece of bubblegum into her mouth and held another piece out to Harleen. She shook her head. "Napier, you mean? Oh geez, how lucky of you to live next to that weirdo." she sighed, chewing. "Better make sure he doesn't spy on you while you're getting dressed."

Harleen looked down at the ground nervously and bit her lip. The boy had seemed a little strange, per se, but he didn't seem the pervert type. More of a crazed murderer type.

The other girl walked with her until they got to the bus station, making small talk along the way. As they got off a small bus that had got them to the neighbourhood Gotham High was next to, Pamela smiled.

"You're a sweet girl, Harley. So I'm gonna help you when you finally start your first day at school, and show you around. Okay?" she informed her.

Harleen nodded. "Firstly I'm part of the cheerleading group, and I'm considered popular. I think you'll be too." she continued. "And so is my friend Selina Kyle, but I'll tell you more about her when you meet her. I'll take the duty of leading you to the principal's office."

They wandered through the neighbourhood and through the old iron gates of Gotham High, making their way up the road. The building was made of stone and brick, and ivy consumed most of the outer walls. The doors were painted a deep burgundy, and the school crest hung above them, gold, with an angel facing away from a shadow in the form of a man. Below it read: GOTHAM HIGH

They skipped up the stairs that some students were smoking which happen to be particularly easy for a girl who was wearing high heels, and headed through the doors.

"The school is divided up into four blocks - A, B, C, and D." Pamela commented, pointing to the board on the wall with her long, red fake nails. She moved her finger to a red dot. "We're here and that's the dorm you'll be staying in on weekdays. With me, most likely."

The corridors were bleak and cold, with posters on the walls on clubs, the teams and a few personal advertisements. The walls were white, to match the white tile floors, and the blue wooden doors of the classrooms stood out. The lights blinked and flickered often and it plunged them into a dim shade. It all seemed too much like the setting for a horror movie.

A small boy with frizzy ginger hair accidentally barged past Pamela and she scowled. "Watch it Eddie." she snapped, turning away and speeding up. She heard him murmuring an apology and he walked in the opposite direction.

Harleen followed, and they entered the office that read: Principal H. Strange

There was a girl already in there, with tan skin, long brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She hadn't noticed that they had come in.

"So yeah, Principal, you can't tell me off for crashing my Buggati into the wall of the History block, because they light was shining in my eyes. Besides I'm pretty sure the students are more interested in my car crashing than learning about the Civil War." she persuaded in a thick Greek accent, tilting her head at him and sitting on the edge of the desk. He was about to reply but she cut him off. "You really don't want to give me a fine, Mr Strange. I mean, what would I tell me father?" she purred the last part of this with a grin.

Principal Strange was a balding, rather pudgy, old man, with a grey suit and tie and circular black glasses surrounding his dark circled eyes. He wore a look of shame and defeat and he made a gesture with his hand. "Alright, Miss Al Ghul, I'll have to let you off this time. Now get out." he growled, rubbing his forehead.

The girl walked past Pamela and they shared a smile. "Bye, Talia." Pamela sniggered

Principal Strange looked up at the two girls in the room and breathed a sigh. "Miss Isley, what brings you to my office?" he asked, resting his eyes for a moment. He caught a glimpse of Harleen and sorted this out by himself. "Oh, new student. I see."

"Harleen Quinzel." Harley added, staring at the degrees on the wall. Some of them were from high class universities in Europe, and it seemed by the tape keeping the glass together, that someone had shattered the case. She looked back at him as he swerved his chair to the right and typed words into a computer, pushing his glasses off his face when he stopped.

He grinned. "Ah yes... Quinzel. Don't you have a brother? Will he be attending this school?" he inquired, looking over at her.

"He's still in middle school, sir. Thirteen years old, y'see." she replied.

He nodded in response and looked back at Pamela. "And you have come with her, Miss Isley?"

The other girl grinned and flipped her hair. "Yup. And if I could make a request that Harls could stay in my dorm room with the other girls? There's only four of us since Kylie moved out." she inquired.

He smirked and typed something else on his computer, but stopped midway. "As long as that's okay to you, Miss Quinzel?" he started.

Harleen nodded again and he finished typing. He handed her a file. She looked back at him in confusion before Pamela told her to open it. Inside, there were pretty written words and a space to provide the answer, like a bio.

"If you could fill your full name, date of birth, address and last school in the blanks, please." he ordered and she obeyed.

He leaned back in his chair after taking the file back. "Right-ee-oh, Miss Quinzel. I'll be the first member of staff to give you a welcoming to this school. We are a very civilised, highly educated, praised school-" he spoke but was cut off as a brick suddenly penetrated the glass window beside him, landing on the floor. It was then they realised that it was strapped to a gas bomb.

The two girls rushed out of the office with a screech, but the principal wasn't too lucky. The air in the room was tinged with a green, thick gas, but it wasn't much like a stink bomb, more like a grenade that let out a non smelling toxic gas. He gasped and spluttered, while the girls watched as he clawed at the desk and screeched incoherent words. He burst out the door and a thin cloud of green followed him.

Harleen nudged Pamela. "What was that?" she whispered to her.

Pamela looked at her and leaned over to her ear. "Fear gas - the same incident has been happening loads with the other teachers. There's rumours it's student who sets them up." she murmured. "Nasty stuff."

Harleen was trying to think how a student creating fear gas that powerful was possible, before she was knocked off her feet by a strong force. She fell to the ground, winded, and looked up annoyed at a muscular, tanned guy, with sleek black hair and baby blue eyes, and quite a handsome face. He was holding a skateboard, while holding out his other hand to her. She pulled away and stood up without his help, a glare fixed on her face.

Pamela rolled her eyes. "Morning, Bruce." she said, dragging Harleen to her side. "A lovely day to be crashing into people with your skateboard, isn't it?"

He ignored her and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry about that. Say, I haven't seen you around here before, what's your name?" he asked, politely.

"Harleen Quinzel. New girl." she muttered.

He smiled nevertheless. "Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you." He extended his hand before he saw her eyes widen in shock.

"B-Bruce Wayne?" she spluttered, shaking a little. "Erm, sorry I didn't know..."

"No matter." he laughed, as Pamela growled and pulled her away. "See you around, Harleen Quinzel!"

Harleen was led around like a rag doll until they reached the stairs. Pamela turned to her, seriously. "Do not fall for his charm. No matter how rich, hot and cute he may be, he is a total jerk once you get to know him. Believe me - I've dated him." she snapped.

The other girl nodded hastily. Pamela regained her usual composure and continued. "Let's get on with the tour, yeah?"

Block A was compromised of the science rooms, IT rooms and Tech classrooms. Block B was made up of the History and Geography rooms. Block C included the Spanish, German and French rooms, along with the restrooms. Block D was made up of the English rooms, Math rooms and the remains of the RE blocks (that had been set alight by some pupils and graffiti the words F# k Jesus on the walls). The gym and the sports hall were to the north, the boys dorm was to the right, the girls dorm was to the left and the gathering hall was in the very centre of the school grounds. There were three exits at each corner of the school.

Pupils apparently had to stay at school overnight in the allocated dorm rooms, but were allowed to return home on weekends. If homework wasn't completed or bad behaviour occurred, the pupil would be given a detention at either recreation or lunch recess. School started at 9:00 sharp and ended at 3:20 when a bell would go.

On fire drills, students would find there nearest exit and be led out by a teacher, before lining up in order outside of the school. Once the Las bell went at 9:00, students would return to their dorms and stay there for the rest of the night. No swearing or fighting allowed.

The borderlines for clothes were simple: keep it moderate and fairly comfortable, and hair colours were relaxed, so some students chose to dye their hair extravagant shades. Nail polish was acceptable, and a reasonable amount of makeup was seen as okay for school.

One thing to mention about Gotham High was that it had made a promise, to stick by troublesome pupils; especially those caught up in the law, and set them on the right path for future life. They very rather expelled someone.

Harleen started breathing once Pamela had finished reading out the long list of rules and boundaries. The girl smiled and laughed a little.

"Come on, it's nearly 9, I'll take you back to the dorm and get you prepared for lessons." Pamela added, taking her arm.

They headed down the corridor heading right and entering the girls' dorm. The walls were marigold and hung with gold painted lights, and filled with several doors. Girls were walking up and down the place, carrying study books for their first lessons..

They Pamela helped her through the small crowd to a door that was painted purple and pink. On a board beside the door it read five names, including Pam's and her own. It was slightly ajar. There were voice and giggling coming from behind it from a few girls.

"This is ours, Harley. Are you sure you don't mind sharing with me, Barbara, Selina and Stephanie?" she asked, standing by her.

She shook her head in reply. "Nah, I've had to share a dorm room with a few girls before. I don't mind at all, Pam." she answered.

"Good, good." she replied, beaming. She opened the door fully and the two girls entered.

The dorm room was painted a mint green and separated into five sections via posters. Her section was bare at the moment, but it was obvious from scratches on the wall from past posters that this had been Kylie's section. Three girls were seated at the edge of their bed in Summery clothing: a slim, deep purple pixie cropped haired, dark made up girl in a black t shirt and leopard print skirt; a ginger haired, freckled, small girl with square glasses and a hoodie; and a blonde, rather young, small girl in a blue shirt and jeans. They all looked very positive and friendly.

Pamela made a large gesture with her arms.

"Selina, Babs, Steph, this is Harley, she's a new girl here." she introduced. "Try to make her feel welcome." She sat down on her bed and beckoned Harleen over.

Hi." Harley murmured, waving shyly.

"Hey. I'm Barbara Gordon." said the girl with glasses.

"Morning." said the blonde girl. "I'm Stephanie Brown."

"Sup. It's Selina Kyle." said the girl with purple pixie cut. "Nice to meet you."

Harleen blushed and smiled back. "It's lovely to meet you all." she replied, diffidently. Her worry about not making friends was long gone, and though she had only been here ten minutes or so, she was really starting to warm up to Gotham High.

"There's your time table, it'll tell you what your lessons are. I was given it by one of the teachers when they heard we would be in the same dorm room together." Stephanie said, handing her a white sheet with different times for lessons on.

"Thanks, Stephanie." she replied, before trailing off when she saw Pamela.

Pamela had gone over to her bedside drawer and was shushing something in there. Her eyes glowed with a strange sort of aura, and her words were hard to make out. Her skin looked greenish, at it had outside when she had first seen her.

Selina looked at them with a serious expression. "Babs. Steph. Get the pills from Jervis. The red ones." she ordered, and the named girls ran out of the dorm room.

"Red?" Harleen started, turning towards her. She then faced Selina. "Does she normally do this?"

Selina shook her head. "Only once every month or so. I don't know what's wrong - and she doesn't want to get help." she answered, holding Harleen's wrist and pulling her over.

From a different angle, she could see that Pamela was crouched over, gently caressing the head of a living chrysanthemum. She was smiling, like a mother to her baby, as she stroked it. "Shhh." she cooed, softly. "Mommy will get rid of those damned constructionists and let your kind sleep. There there, mommy's got you."

Harleen looked in horror, while Selina shook Pamela. "Babe, come on this isn't funny. It's a plant, you can't help it." she said hurriedly.

Pamela refused to look up at her as she spoke. "My babies need me. They are sleeping, docile, and weak. They need me as their Mother Nature." she spoke lightly, as if trying not to wake her child.

Selina grabbed her by the shoulders. "Pamela, honestly snap out of it." she growled, looking into her eyes.

She looked back in hate, and lifted her eyes. "I'm not Pamela. I do not belong to that wretched human name, like a walking sack of meat that destroys this planet. I am Poison Ivy, and I will save Earth from the destruction of-"

She was cut off as Barbara and Stephanie dashed back into the room, and forced a red pill and a slurp of water down her throat. The girl coughed and took in a deep breath of air. "What happened?" she stuttered, looking at the plant in her hands and two girls kneeling beside her.

Harleen breathed in a sigh of relief and hugged her. The other girl was taken aback by the sudden embrace, but hugged back.

Selina stood up. "The Poison Ivy thing again." she told her. "Seriously, Pam, you're gonna have to get control of it before you start actually doing what you say you will do. I mean, what if we're not around when this happens?"

Pamela signed sitting up, before the bell chimed. "What does your time table say is first, Harley?" Barbara asked, gathering her books.

Harleen checked. "Chemistry apparently. Any of you lot have that?" she replied.

Selina raised her hand and grinned. "I do. Now let's go before we're late." she answered, turning to Pamela, Stephanie and Barbara. "See you in History!"

The party of five departed, Harleen and Selina heading to the North West towards the Science rooms, while Barbara, Stephanie and Pamela parted to the South. Their footsteps disappeared in time, with crowds of girl spurting out of their rooms.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

 **-CHEMISTRY-**

Selina and Harley burst into the bleak, bustling classroom and took their seat. The teacher was inscribing a series of sentences onto the chalkboard, and faced away from them.

An older burly boy with rough, olive green skin, who wore a loose yellow and black soccer shirt with the name 'CROC' on the back, sat to the right of them. His hair was shaved off completely and dyed a colour to match his skin, so none of the stubble could be seen. His breathing was rather loud and grating.

Adjacent to him was a similarly large boy with bulging muscles and a black beanie on his head, with a design straight from those of a masked wrestler. He had a dark goatee which contrasted against his Mexican tan, and his chest was hidden by a navy blue tank top. He warmed his legs with thin grey pants.

Selina clucked her tongue and glanced at Harleen. "You have a Science book from your last school?" she inquired quietly, as she removed her own from her satchel.

Harleen shook her head. "Teachers made me leave them as an example." she replied.

"Is that because you're a teachers' pet?" she purred, grinning.

"Nope, I just had a pinnacle of the prime type of work Science teachers were looking for."

"What does pin-eh-cul mean?"

"Doesn't matter."

"M'kay."

Selina brushed back her dark ebony-purple bangs from her face and exhaled deeply, before smirking. "Know anyone yet?" she asked.

Harleen tilted her head and shrugged. "Pam's told me about a few: - Jervis Tetch, Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne ( _such a jerk_ she murmured with it), and I've met you, her, Stephanie and Barbara. Though I can't put a face to the name Jervis Tetch." she responded, tightening her ponytail.

Selina took a sip from her water bottle and reapplied her lip gloss. She searched the room with her swirling green eyes and came across a despondent boy in the right corner of the classroom. She motioned at Harleen to him. Harleen's eyes followed in the same direction and paused.

Jervis Tetch was a short, buck teethed, strawberry blonde haired, smartly dressed boy. He wore a neat shirt and old waistcoat, with pale blue pants. He was chuckling.

"That's him?" Harleen asked, peering and asking herself why she was so surprised. Maybe because he looked to be no more than 4' 4. "What were you saying about the pills this morning, Selina?"

Selina took another gulp and wiped the corners of her mouth. "Jervis is a master at medication and drug stuff. He's been restricted in such since the teachers thought he was creating illegal drugs, but if you need an ibuprofen or one of his special doses, what we got for Pam, just ask. Bit of a weirdo with the Alice in Wonderland obsession nevertheless." she replied, rolling her eyes.

The classroom seemed to get even louder as everyone arrived, and the desks around the room were filled. Notwithstanding, the teacher kept his back faced to the pupils as he wrote, his hand shaking with age. Harleen leaned over to Selina. "Is he, like, really deaf?" she whispered.

Selina smiled and nodded vigorously. "He's probably 80 or something and having to deal with this class, and is going senile and deaf, so the students take advantage of the poor guy." she whispered back.

Her grin widened as she slipped off into her thoughts. "How 'bout I show you to everyone I know? That'd help you to settle in, and meet everyone in the process!" she exclaimed.

After a second or so of looking around, she nudged the large olive skinned and the heavily muscled boys and gestured to Harleen. "Guys, new girl here."

They looked at her and grinned. "Hey there, newbie." The olive skinned one welcomed.

Selina giggled and held a hand to the olive skinned boy. "This is Waylon Jones..."

"Killer Croc." the named boy retorted. "The name is Croc."

"Okay, Killer Croc." she repeated, before moving her hand to the beanie wearing guy. "And this is Des Bane."

"Des, short for Desconocido. Or meaning Unknown in my mother tongue." The other added. "Harleen Quinzel." Harleen replied, wearing a look of confusion. "What's your real name then, Des?" she enquired, lightly. He smirked. "I have no idea."

Selina looked in her handheld mirror and beamed warmly. "I feel like we should give her a welcoming. A class welcoming if possible." she told them. They nodded, and a moment later, Croc let out a deafening roar, and the turbulent space fell silent.

Bane cleared his throat and chorkled. "Can we show a little appreciation for the new Harleen Quinzel?" he called out to the rest of the pupils.

They all turned to look at the young girl, who was now blushing scarlet at her cheeks and nose, and smiled. And welcomed her.

"Welcome to Gotham, Harleen!" some called.

"Good to see another girl on the team!" others congratulated.

Talia al Ghul stood up, grinning. "Talia Vienna al Ghul, head of the Gotham High cheerleading squad." she greeted, almost holding a pose. "My father, Ra's al Ghul, is the second most powerful man in Gotham, next to the Wayne family, if you didn't know."

If she didn't realise? Talia was wearing all designer brands, some that she hadn't even heard of because of how expensive they were. She was wearing a solid gold watch for God's sake! Harleen could never really stand a spoilt brat, so that was already working out well for them.

A group of people waved and beamed. "I'm Henry." "Jacob." "Elias." "Jeannie." "Louise." "Svella."

A pale, emaciated, brown eyed boy, with enough gel on his hair to fill a 10 foot ditch, stood up. Guyliner lined his bloodshot eyes and was surrounded by burgundy bags that probably represented the dozen more hours of sleep he needed. He kept a soft smile on his shy face as he drew his attention to Harleen. The boy wore a black leather jacket over his white pullover and chocolate brown chinos.

"Hello there, I'm Jonathan Crane. Also known as the Scarecrow." he said, tenderly. "I study all sciences and spend most of my time gazing in the presence of a book or two."

She smiled back as another person stood up. Harleen's face was practically burning with a happy embarrassment all the same.

This person was short and jittering, and awkwardly adjusted his dark rimmed glasses back on his upturned nose. His ginger hair was thick and had a mind of its own. The boy wore a white shirt, green pants, a matching green tie and black suspenders, and carried a small, formal, beige case in his left hand. "Greetings, Harleen Quinzel. I, behold am Edward Nygma, a quintessence of young human intelligence, and the most perspicacious pupil in the whole of this petty educational institution. I have prevailed in earning many awards, especially as of my high GPA..." he boasted, smugly, before Croc took him by the collar and held him above his head.

"PUT ME DOWN YOU IGNORAMUS!" Edward spat, flailing his arms around futilely.

"How do those big words work for you now, riddle-nerd?" Croc retorted, grinning.

Edward scowled in defeat and Harleen rolled her eyes.

A short, stout, plump boy raised his behind from off his seat, though failing to stand taller than the few still sat down beside him. His chin length black locks were slicked back to reveal a quite chubby face and a birdy beak like nose, and large, blinking, black eyes. With useless, ugly, disfigured three fingered claws of hands, he gave the impression of a bird albeit the feathers. "Pleasant to meet you, Harleen." he squawked. He was dressed in a white t-shirt, black trousers and a grey short sleeved jacket. "I am Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot-"

"PENGUIN!" said a voice from across the room. The owner got up, a tall, graceful, willowy older girl, wearing a emerald green crop top and a matching colored skort, with black trainers. She cartwheeled over. "PENGUIN, PENGUIN, PENGUIN!" She had an Asian complexion, with dark, greenish black eyes, and a smart smile on her red painted lips.

Soon the whole class was chanting the same thing: "PENGUIN!" "PENGUIN!" "PENGUIN!"

This continued, Oswald getting redder, before the teacher turned around and frowned. "Back in your seats, children." he assured, turning slowly back to the board.

The girl turned to Harleen as she sat in one of the seats by the desk next to them. "Hi there, Harleen." she welcomed, beaming. She held out her hand and the other girl shook it. "I'm Jade Nguyen, or as everyone refers to me as, Cheshire. Because I keep appearing and disappearing, and blending into the shadows. Like the Cheshire cat."

"Oh, and I do love an Alice's Adventures in Wonderland fan." Jervis Tetch breathed, clasping his hands together.

Harleen tilted her head in confusion. "Does everyone have nicknames?" she questioned.

Selina nodded and pursed her lips. "Yup, everyone. And sometimes it's other people that adopt them to you." she explained. "For example I'm..." She paused to sigh. "Catwoman."

Harleen wrinkled her forehead. "Why are you called that?" she asked.

"I own 7 cats, that's why. Stephanie found out and refused to call me anything but Catwoman until others caught on. Which they did." Selina muttered.

Harleen looked in pity and turned to Jade. "So what do the other names mean?" she questioned, twisting a finger around a lock of blonde, fried hair.

Cheshire grinned, a large toothy smirk, and turned a hand to Jonathan.

He grinned back. "Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow. A master of fear... though I don't look it." he explained, turning.

Oswald rolled his eyes and squawked before beginning. "They call me Penguin, because of my nose. It makes me look like a bird, apparently." he added.

Edward stopped kicking out at Croc and listened. "Oh yeah. I'm known as the Riddler, as I like to solve riddles in my spare time. It's an amateur interest." he told her, flashing a smile.

"See?" Selina replied, finishing off her small bottle of cold water. She signalled for everyone to face the board as the teacher turned to check on the class, and grinned innocently. He searched the room, smiled, and gestured to the board.

"Today children we will be learning about forces, and specifically measuring forces in Newtons." he explained. "If you would team up into threes, hope you'll all enjoy the experiment we have in store today..."

At those words, Harley froze.

They had to do the said experiment at her old school, and it was another reason why she happened to be so insecure: she felt very self-conscious about her weight. And she remembered the experiment too- step onto the scales, read your height and weight out, and the teacher would transfer it into Newtons. By measuring your shoes size and dividing the Newton weight by that size, then doubling it for two feet, you could figure out how much force you created on the ground.

She was going to be put on the spot on her first day too.

Harleen teamed up with Selina, as there was no one else willing to be the third, and in a few minutes, they had gathered the equipment, made sure their hair was out of the way, and had set up the scales.

Harley bit her lip and made up at providing herself a small distraction. "So. About the whole nicknames thing. Why does Jack Napier call himself the Joker?" she asked. The whole room seem to usher until Selina looked at Harley with a nervous smile.

The double doors slammed open to behold a tall, attenuated, green haired boy, with a purple hoodie over a lime green waistcoat and hay yellow shirt. He was chewing gum, and spat it into the bin without looking, before proceeding to grin at the class. Then his eyes fell on Harleen.

"It's a story I can't tell you right now." Selina simply replied quietly and oddly, walking slowly and stepping on the scales, to a girl who hadn't noticed the man had entered.

"Sorry I'm late folks." he apologised sarcastically. He danced around the room of jittering students, apart from Harleen, that one girl that hadn't known him long enough to know what to think of him. She stared agape in a sort of curiosity. The last time she had met this jackanape, had been a few days ago when he had held a knife to her, yet alas he seemed calm and playful now. He was certainly a case.

Jack wore a look of withering and menace as he smirked. "Keep talking you baffoons; don't let me stop ya!" he giggled.

The pupils restarted chatting in an effort to please him and he scanned the room. "Ah come on, Johnny, you went with birdy and the riddle guy? Shame. Good morning, Mr Adams, how's the disabled wife?" he rambled, spinning. "Now who… three, three, three, three, three, four, that's not fair! Three, three, ah there's a two." He chuckled, heading towards Harleen and Selina.

The latter folded her arms and clamped her eyes shut. _'Don't walk this way, don't walk this way…'_ she repeated in her head.

"Hi kitty!"

She snapped them open. He was leaning over them, grinning wildly, and had his lanky arm slung over Harley's shoulders. "You don't mind if I work with you two, do you? I mean, you seem to be missing a member." he purred, and before they could object, he had begun messing around with their equipment.

Selina hissed and raised a fist, but Harleen consoled her with a gentle hand and nodded. Jack propped himself against the table they were stationed at, and winked at Harley. She blushed madly for the second time that day. Selina glanced down at the number on the scales: 125 lb

She beamed and wrote the digits beside 5"7 and size 8 on the provided sheet she held. She wandered off to hand it to Mr Adams, leaving the other two on their own.

Jack smiled, nodding at Harleen. "Ladies first, little clown." he giggled and ran a hand casually through his hair.

She nodded back shyly and took a light step onto the scales, before it beeped.

132 lb

 _'Crap.'_ she thought.

She quickly stood off the scales before anyone could see. The boy moved to her seat and lunged for her bag, hoisting it up onto his lap. Harleen didn't take notice until she noted her answers down and reached out, finding nothing to grab.

"Huh?" she murmured, bending her neck to come face to face with an intrigued Jack. She recoiled. He grinned at her and searched her bag curiously.

"Erm, could you give me my bag back please?" she asked sheepishly. He didn't look up. "Please... Mr Joker?"

He smirked. "You seemed different when I met you before." he implied.

"Pot to the kettle." she retorted, adjusting the fitting of her dress.

He reached out a hand to caress her cheek. "Hmmph. How cute you are, little Harley." he purred softly, slipping a secretive hand into her front pocket.

She took it in, smiling back and feeling sparks of electric from his touch... until she looked down when her drew away quickly. Her pen was gone; he had taken it. "Hey!" she snapped, slapping his cheek instinctively with a fast open palm.

He held the sore area in mock hurt and raised his dyed dark ivy green eyebrows. Grinning smugly, he spoke: "If this hadn't been your first day, you would be dead in a ditch after that." he tutted, albeit with a smile.

Reaching to his pockets, he mimed shock, before reaching behind her ear and pulling out her pen. She took it. "You ain't a magician, y'know." she replied, rather annoyed, making sure the pen wasn't visible.

He chuckled and patted her back. "Ah, but I am a joker. And in future, tone done the attitude – you'll settle down into how Gotham High works well." he added, returning her bag and getting up to stand on the scales. She stayed stuck on the spot there for a few minutes, before getting up and making her way to Mr Adams, to hand in the sheet that read 5"5, 132 lb and size 6 ½ .

"Thank you, Miss... I'm sorry I don't think I've seen you before." Mr Adams stuttered, as she passed over the sheet.

"Quinzel, sir. I'm new to this school anyway, so it's normal that you wouldn't already known me." she replied, smiling.

He smiled sweetly. "My name is Henry Adams, but students must only refer to me as Mr Adams." he added, before listening and chuckling. "Is that New York I hear?"

She nodded and sighed. "Brooklyn, yeah." she answered.

"I have family in Canarsie, actually. It's a nice neighbourhood." he replied slowly, before taking the paper.

The bell cried out at that moment for next lesson and he turned away. Selina hooked Harleen's arm and pulled her to the desk. They scurried for their bags, and dashed out of the door, along with the entire contents of the classroom. Selina was urgently pulling the other girl from any further contact with Jack Napier. They breathed a sigh of relief - the next lesson was Art.

Hopefully they wouldn't see the clown there...


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

 **-** **ART** **-**

"Aloha, Miss Quinzel. Pleasure to have you for your first art class; I am Mr Wakiki, head of art, and your teacher for the entirety of this academic year." the broad shouldered, dark eyed, Hawaiian art teacher preached, as Harleen entered the classroom. "Is there anyone in particular you'd like to sit next to?"

"Pamela Isley, if that's manageable." she replied, politely. He smiled and nodded in allowance and Harleen calmly rushed to sit next to the named girl, as more students filed in.

In Art, it seemed that the students sat on a table of five, instead of desks. On hers sat herself, Pamela, Bruce Wayne, and two peculiarly dressed boys she hadn't met before. In front of each stool sat a sheet of thick paper on the table, and a beautifully arranged bundle of flowers lay in a vase in the table's center.

"Your task for today is simple: to create your own interpretation of these bunches of marigolds I have placed on each of your tables. make it your own." Mr Wakiki announced to the 30 pupils in the class. "The colors are on my desk. You have two hours, so if you complete the task in detail before the bell, just... do your own thing."

With that he sat on the armchair by his desk, and began to read 'A Study in Scarlet'.

Pam rolled her illuminated eyes as Bruce winked at her and collected the colored pencils from the opposite end of the room. Harleen leaned forward. "You're probably the only girl I've met to ever turn down Bruce Wayne." she giggled. "How come a playboy billionaire is going to this school anyway? I'm sure he could afford some kinda private boy's school instead of Gotham High."

Pamela also leaned forward. "Apparently he demanded his butler, or his guardian, let him attend Gotham High. It's a puzzle why anyone with that kind of money would choose to go here." she replied.

They were interrupted as the first of the two unknown boys, one with sunkissed dark blonde hair that gathered over his left eye, and a face trickled with clay, spoke up. He had a thick Australian accent, she observed.

"Nice to meet yer, Harley." he greeted, pulling out a sketching pencil from the top pocket of his shirt. "I'm Basil Karlo, and this here is Victor Fries if you haven't already met. Isley told me a little about you last lesson."

Harleen smiled in response. "Nice to meet you. And Victor Freeze is such an intriguing name." she replied, sweetly.

"It's German." Victor added, shyly. "Spelt like fries, pronounced freeze. Those who don't remember that always write me down as Mr Freeze. It's okay though."

Victor had albino white skin, and light blue touched the corners of his lips and around his waterline below his eyes. He wore a thin blue and black shirt and black pants, and matching boots, though left his hairless head and blue tinged hands uncovered.

"He hasn't got a cold heart though." Bruce put in, as he returned with two of every colored pencil. "He gets really tense around the ladies, don't you, Vic?"

The named boy blushed a deep shade of pink and smiled lightly.

Pamela played with the jewelled ivory ring on her finger and glanced at Basil. "How about you tell her about your nickname, Bas?" she eluded.

Harleen drew a simple drawing of the first flower as they talked, still ears open.

Basil sighed. "A year ago or so, Jack Napier played a prank on me. I was working on a sculpture that at the point had taken over two weeks, I was in the DT block at around half eight at night, and when I called in a night and exited through the door: BAM! I was soaked head to shoulders in liquid clay. When I recovered from the small shock and looked up, there was a click and a flash. There, in front of me, was J with a camera in his hands and laughing, as he shook the instant picture like a Polaroid. The old bucket atop the door gag. Hmmph." he explained, tightening his grip around his pencil. "He used to plaster that photo over the school and embarrass me until Summer break. And when I came back, everyone was calling me Clayface."

Harleen looked up in surprise. "Would Jack do something like that?" she asked, innocently.

Basil smirked. "Unless you're that naïve, you'll know that he's a cruel guy. He's probably broken every law under the sun, and somehow his parents seem to get him out of facing the punishment for his crimes. Even two of his closest friends Jonathan Crane and Harvey Dent know that. To be honest, they aren't really that close since a few weeks back..." he murmured.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Pam can tell yer more about that, being Harvey's girlfriend 'n' all." he implied, getting on with his sketch, like Victor and Bruce already had.

"You have a boyfriend?" Harley asked.

"Yeah, why?" she snapped, protectively. "J spray painted over half of Harvey's presidential campaign posters because he thought it would be funny showing how two-faced he was. And for Johnny, well he admitted he thought of him as nothing more than a nerd and a junkie. They were both pissed and didn't want anything to do with him."

Harley looked down at her hands, to make sure they weren't shaking with mixed emotions. She touched the small graze on her cheek before Pammie finished with: "Can't blame them."

An hour later, Harleen had completed her sketch of the full bouquet of flowers, though she had chosen to shade instead of color. Overall, it seemed acceptable, but no where near as impressive as Pamela's, she saw, as she quickly glanced over.

With a silent roll of the eyes, she reached out for another sheet of blank paper and danced her pencil apon it. This so started the few minutes of drawing many hearts and diamonds across the page. She giggled softly, and began on a figure, male, smart and slim, before adding neat, though messy, hair and a well composured face and a sweet smirk.

She looked back in horror as she realised, staring down at the finished piece, that she had drawn Jack. The Joker, no longer in a hoodie, but in a suit, like a classy 1920s gangster without a fedora. Her body tingled in a sort of animal attraction and she attempted to hide it from everyone else.

She glanced at the clock – 40 minutes left.

Harleen sat upwards and stretched out her back, until she became bored and looked at what everyone else had accomplished. Pam happened to be drawing more flowers, Bruce was drawing what looked like a simple sketch of a man in a dark costume, Basil drew basic caricatures of people in the classroom, and Victor drew some kind of woman.

Leaning forwards, she decided it would be okay to talk quietly, as a few students were doing so. "Whaddya drawing?" she asked Bruce.

He looked up from beneath his eyebrows. "You don't- ah wait he's probably not that well known outside of Gotham..." he replied.

"Who?" she inquired.

"That is, have you heard of him?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Stop playing the name game! Who is he?" she growled under her breath.

He grinned. "The Batman. He's like the protector of this school." he replied.

"What kinda madman calls himself the Batman?" she laughed.

"A real nutty guy." Karlo responded, with a chuckle. "He's dressed up in some sort of Halloween costume too, what's to be afraid of?"

"What do you have against him?" Bruce snarled, putting his pencil down.

"What do I not have against him?" Basil argued.

"Other than the fact that he protects the pupils in this school and keeps the law!"

"He takes the law into his own hands, goddammit! And what has he done apart from stopping the Joker do some horrendous crime, beat up a few bullies and ruin my musical, where I was about to kiss the girl of my dreams!"

By this point, the rest of the class had gone silent, Mr Wakiki had looked up from his book, and Bruce Wayne was fuming at the mouth. The two were standing and glaring at each other with more fury than most humans could ever express.

Pamela stood also, with concern in her eyes. "Now guys, not in here!" she interjected, but they ignored her.

"Why don't he ever take the mask off, huh? Must be a real coward behind that mask!" Basil growled.

"Bastard!" Bruce barked, leaping at him and the two started to scrap like wild dogs.

Mr Wakiki lept to his feet. "Stop it this once!" he ordered. "If you don't I'll report you to Principal Strange's office this instant!"

When this didn't work, he became enraged. "STOP THIS AT ONCE!" he bellowed, and the two boys stopped, with bloody noses, battered knuckles and bruised eyes. "Now! Wayne, Karlo, to the principal's!"

He grabbed their shirt collars, and lead them furiously out of the class. "Have an early lunch, kids, while I deal with these hooligans."

The class cheered and headed to the lunch hall, and Harleen did so with Pamela.

"Geez, intense fight." Harley giggled.

Pamela grinned. "Happens all the time here, just don't tell your parents that." she replied, checking the time on her phone. "Sorry, Harley, got a doctor's appointment with my parents now. Hope you have a cool first day, you seem sweet."

Harley waved as she walked away. "Thanks, Pam." she called.

"Love ya, hun." Pamela answered, giggling and blowing a fake kiss as she caught up into more of a jog.

She turned the corner and Harley sighed, before following the other pupils to the cafeteria. It was huge and painted pale yellow, with several blue circular tables seated around the large room. Searching it with her lonely eyes, she found no sight of Selina, and as the bell went and hungry students started to rush in, she made a quick decision to sit on the nearest table; alone.

Harleen pulled out her plastic lunch box from her bag and opened it, as everyone grabbed their lunch and began talking. She sat quietly, eating her salad and cold leftovers of falafel before a voice chimed: "Hello, Harleen, is it okay if we sit with you?"

She looked up to see Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma, and Jervis Tetch standing there with their lunch trays.

"Sure." she stammered, smiling as they sat.

"So how is your first day going?" Jonathan asked, taking a bite of his lasagne.

"Good, thanks." she replied. "Everyone here is so friendly and open. And I've already seen a fight today."

She giggled and he smiled happily. "You'll be seeing lots of those here. Hopefully none with me in." he told her.

"Yeah, Pamela told me." she replied.

Jonathan looked surprised. "You're friends with Pamela?" he snorted.

She gave him a look and he stopped. "Why? What's the problem with her?" she asked, quietly. "She seems kind."

"Everyone does at first, my dear." he replied. "But believe me, I've been stuck with her since I started this school when I was 14, she is not kind."

"Whaddya mean?" she put simply, eating the last of her food as he did.

"Her parents are rich and they spoil their only daughter. The dad is the co founder of the international company Botanics, along with a certain Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul's father, who happens to be running the 'Lazarus' project, which is a selection of oils that make you look decades younger... anyway I went off track. She and Talia are rich, spoilt and popular and have gone out with half of the school's boys. They're bullies and look down on people, so if they're ever nice, they don't mean it. They can be manipulative, as poor Kylie Todd found out." he explained, scrunching up his face as if he was going to barf just thinking about it."

"Kylie... Pamela said she moved out." Harley responded.

"She committed suicide by jumping from the school building." he said, abruptly.

She froze and creased her brow. "Oh my God." she replied, struggling to think of what to say.

His head bowed. "The funniest thing was that I had a crush on her, and we could tell each other everything. And then... a few months ago, she and Pamela had an argument and before as they were the two closest beings on this Earth, they weren't friends at all afterwards. And because of it, Pamela made Kylie's life hell. She used to send her threatening notes in her locker, and told lies to make everyone despise the girl, and act the victim, so it made Kylie look like the real monster." he responded, glumly.

"Why didn't she tell the principal, or her parents?" she inquired, drawn in by the sad tale.

"She told the principal, but he wouldn't listen, firstly because I suspect he was bribed, and secondly because of Pamela's innocent act." he growled hushedly, but not directed at Harley, rather at Pamela in his head. He had a look like poison. "And for her parents, well she only got to see them on weekends, and every Monday she would return to me and say she couldn't pluck up the courage to do it. See, Kylie's parents were simple bar workers, running the Vermonte club Kylie's mother inherited. If she told them, they'd try to do something to stop, and with Isley influence in court too, the parents would end up being sued, and they couldn't afford that on minimum pay, not some of the crazy high priced sues the Isleys could destroy them with."

Harleen exhaled as if she had had the life drained from her. "So it became too much and she jumped off the school roof." she finished and he nodded.

Tetch rubbed his back. "It's been a quarter of a dozen months and he can't help himself get over it. We've tried anyway." Jervis explained.

Harleen tilted his head up to stare into her concerned cloudy blue eyes and smiled pitifully. "Johnny, I'm not asking you to forget Kylie like she never existed, but you shouldn't get torn up by this for the rest of your life. I know it might take time, but you should think about how strong she was – to stick by you and take the metaphorical bullets for as long as she did, and then gave in to her fears." she consoled.

"I thought giving in to your fears was weak." he snivelled, brushing away a lock of hair.

"Not like that, if you think. Her passing on was a sort of freedom, I mean, Pamela can't touch her now, can she?" Harley replied, taking his hand in two of hers. "She's not gone, Johnny, she's just left her body. And as my ma always tell me when, when people die, they don't leave, they just stay as a soul, repeating daily tasks as though nothing had happened, and keeping loved ones safe. Like a guardian angel almost. So think of it like that, Jonathan, and maybe slowly you can move on, because Kylie would want you to. No one should give up their life in high school to mourn for eternity afterall."

Jonathan looked up with tears in his eyes and smiled. "You're the best goddamn shrink I've ever had, Harley." he wept, thankfully. "Honestly, I really think you could be a student psychologist for this school because you are amazing."

Jervis smiled in a happy shock and nodded in gratitude. "Miss Harleen you are simply wonderous! Now I must rush Jonathan to the restroom before he cries; he may not be Alice, but he could rightfully well drown in his tears." he said with a jolt, the two hurrying off.

Edward sat opposite her at the table, and had his face tucked in a complex book of riddles. "A student psychologist? Well I've never really thought about it." she murmured.

"I find such gibberish a waste of time." Edward responded without question. "Do you like riddles?"

"Kinda." she answered.

"Do you know any?"

"Off the top of my head... a few."

"What travels around the world yet stays in a corner?"

"I dunno."

"A stamp."

"Oh, right."

"What is black and white and read all over?"

"A newspaper."

"Correct. I was glad that you didn't say a beaten, bleeding cow like Jack Napier."

"Ewwww."

"What walks of four legs, then two, then three?"

"I've never heard of that one."

"A human. A baby on four, then we walk on two, and then the elder needs a cane."

"That one is cool."

"So what do you make of this Kylie Todd?" he asked, suddenly.

Harley paused. "I think that she was just a victim, and what Pamela did, was just... disgusting." she replied honestly.

"Keep that trail of thought. You can't trust her." he told her, quietly, behind a hand.

"Seems like I can't trust anyone." she sighed, glumly.

He grinned. "You really can't, we're all bad people inside waiting for a chance to show, and going here just raises the stakes of that side showing." he chuckled.

She stayed silent. "The only good thing to come from Kylie's respiration, is that her little brother, Jackson or Jason or whatever his name was, got past school security somehow, ran into Pamela's class and told her it was her fault Kylie died and that Pamela should go reproduce with herself." he continued, with a slight smirk.

She looked down at her hands.

Nygma tilted his head with that same smirk. " **Who are you**?" he probed, adjusting his glasses.

"Excuse me?" she asked, in a confused manner.

"You, Harleen Quinzel, are you a jock, a gamer, a prep, a nerd; popular, loner? Who exactly are you?" he repeated.

"I like to think that I don't fit into any catergory. Because I don't fit in right." she murmured.

"Napier is the only other person who describes himself as, none of the categories, rather as his own category." he mentioned.

"Thanks for comparing me to Jack Napier." she muttered, packing away her stuff.

"Where are you going, Harleen?" he called, but she rolled her eyes.

"Wait!" he added. "I just wanted to know who you are!"


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

After an uneventful, and rather tiring first week, Harleen headed out to the singular building out in the edge of the school sports field. She clenched her hands in anticipation – after talking to Selina; she had agreed to come for a cheerleading tryout after school.

In her mind, she was still on rough ground with Pamela, after hearing the story about Kylie Todd, but had spoken nothing of it to her face. Though she hadn't seen Pamela for the whole of today, so she hadn't been on her mind much. Lessons had been reasonable, History, RE (in the conservatory of course), French, then double English. English had given the students a chance to start a story, and with that opportunity, she had begun a detective-type novel based in a town very similar to Gotham.

She was proud of the first chapter, so far, though needed some inspiration to keep her going. And she happened to have none, even in a dark city, filled with crimes and crooked cops.

As she reached the door of the girls changing rooms, she smiled at Selina, who ran over and gave her a hug.

"Yaaaay! Are you excited?" the girl exclaimed, handing her a cheerleading outfit and a pair of sneakers.

"Oh, course!" she answered enthusiastically, and received the clothes, before entering through the door with Selina.

A few other girls huddled in the room, stripping down to their underwear quickly and pulling on the one piece outfit. Harleen's eyes widened, as she pulled her own on.

"This is a little low cut, isn't it?" she asked, nervously, checking her reflection in the mirror. It was red and black, and read Gotham Rogues on the chest in gold, with a same colored trim on the bottom, and rather short at the top, revealing an uncomfortable amount of bosom for her.

The other girls seemed comfortable, though mildly surprising to say the least.

"No, it's fine, Harley!" Selina replied, as she finished getting dressed into her outfit and trainers. "And believe me, the guys love it, so maybe we'll end up finding you a boyfriend after all."

They exited onto the field, just as Harleen tied her loose hair up into pigtails. The 2 acre pitch was lined with astro turf and artificial grass, with tracks for running, a podium, soccer goals, and other sport equipment. Bleachers surrounded the edge of the pitch in a ring, and resembled that of a stadium. Talia stood on the field holding pom poms, and instructing the more familiar girls, before she noticed the newer lot emerging from the changing rooms, with a smile.

"It's a lovely day, girls, and welcome to the cheerleading squad!" she beckoned, thrusting her poms poms to the side.

Selina kept a casual expression, one that she might wear if she neither liked nor disliked Talia, and lead the four new girls including Harleen over. Two of the four looked lean and strong and tall, though they all kept their heads down if not to accidentally take a glance of the boys on the American football team, which practised on the other half of the luscious field.

Harleen felt fine nevertheless. Pamela wasn't on the field, so she felt a little less tense.

Talia welcomed them with hands on her hips, and grinned. "Okay, today we're going to do some basic tryouts – if you do them well enough for my liking, you can join the team. If you don't, then you're wasting my time. Simple enough?" she explained. "First we need your names."

She drew out a notebook from her cheer outfit pocket, as the other team members ordered the four into a neat line. "Left to right." she told them, removing a pen. "You, Blondie. Start, would'yeh?"

"Harleen Quinzel." Harley replied, blushing.

Talia made a face. "Could you spell that?" she replied.

"Sure." Harleen stammered. "H-A-R-L-E-E-N, Q-U-I-N-Z-E-L."

"Thanks." Talia muttered, writing her down. "Next."

"Mari Jiwe McCabe." said the girl to her right, who had milky dark African skin, hazel eyes and short deep brunette hair. With a look from Talia, she added: "M-A-R-I, J-I-W-E, M-C-C-A-B-E."

"Good. Next." Talia sighed, putting the pen to paper.

"I'm Louise Lincoln." answered the next. She was around two inches shorter than Harleen, with an ice blue pixie crop matched with blue eyebrows, bright sky grey eyes, a glum face, sickly pale skin and dark navy lipstick on her cold lips.

"Yup." Talia returned.

"Courtney, Courtney Whitmore." the final girl replied. Courtney was slim and joyous, with long, dyed back blonde hair, bronze eyes and a Californian accent. She smiled consistently, so much it made Harleen's cheeks feel like aching.

"Okey dokey, newcomers. It's wonderful and sunny, so let's do our best to learn. Pick anyone of my fabulous girls, and they'll show you a few routines. Chop to it!" Talia ordered, pulling out her phone and texting in boredom.

Selina turned to Harleen. "Okay, so firstly, have you ever done something like this?" the former asked, pulling on a hair band to keep away the rogue purple locks from her view.

Harleen blushed. "Well, I've kinda done gymnastics, but I don't really have much balance." she replied, slowly. "Do you think you could teach me some stuff?"

"That's what I'm here for, aren't I?" she laughed, positioning herself at an angle. "First - the cartwheel. Try and copy my position here, Harley; now point one foot forward; raise your hands to the air; and turn and reach for the ground; with your back foot raised slightly. Yup, just like that. Now push off with your remaining foot and at the same time kick out with the other foot. Cartwheel and land."

She landed faced the opposite way, but found Harley sprawled across the ground, as she had fallen over.

"I can't get that bit right." she whined, after three tries.

Selina sighed and helped her up. "Watch - One. Two. Three. Four." she repeated, showing her a couple times. "Now you try." She tried and it was certainly an improvement, with good arm strength and power in her kick off. "Gooood."

Finally she managed to do an almost perfect cartwheel, and Selina decided to move on. "Can you do the splits, at least?" and she sighed with relief as she nodded. "Okay, let's try." Selina kneeled to get down into the splits, though Harley quickly slid into them, and reached out to touch her toes. On middle, she could put her chin on the floor without feeling a strain, and that was when Selina became just a little jealous.

"Oooh, I forgot. I've been practising on my back walkover for a few weeks, we could go from there." Harleen interjected, pointing her toes.

Harleen was admittedly a natural at walkovers, once she got over the fear of breaking her neck, and could do a front and back flawlessly, and accidentally went into a back handspring when she put too much force into the backbend. Albeit she did have more muscle than balance, and with clumsiness she easily wobbled all over the place when she tried to do anything in a straight line. She had the smile of a kind hearted sorority girl, even if that was put on, and although Selina didn't mean it, she actually regretted bringing her here to join up, because she made the others kind of look bad. She may have even been better than Talia.

Selina faked a smile. "The routine is as follows..." she spoke, and took her step by step through it.

A half hour into the practice, all four of the new girls were familiar with the cheer routine and could repeat it the whole way through. The squad stood watching the new repeat it, and grinned. Harleen took steady breaths and lifted her imaginary pom poms into the air, then to the right, then to the left. She kept reiterating the same few sentences: "Yes the Gotham Rogues will knock you dead! The team will put the losers to bed!" she, Mari, Courtney and Louise cried, following the orders. They put their practise pom poms together and lifted them up with a roar, before kneeling on one knee and beaming, and then lifting Harleen up into the air and holding that pose. Talia smirked and clapped, along with Selina and a good portion of the squad.

Just as the girl cheered and smiled, and Talia was about to congratulate them on being accepted into the squad, something suddenly struck Harley in the chest and she couldn't help but topple over with the force. The girls were too surprised to catch her and she crashed backwards to the ground with a thud. The others gasped, and this thing that hit her was wet and freezing and soaked her outfit from the top, and as the soccer team noticed and looked over, another one came from the bleachers. After that, a bombardment of them came one at a time, aimed at the both new and the familiar girls.

Talia and the others squealed and scattered, while Harleen clutched her sides and murmured. She looked up and glared over, standing up and pushing past the screaming girls, heading madly to the figure in the bleachers, grinning psychotically and laughing with no remorse.

Another boy reached him first.

"What the hell kinda sick joke was that?" the boy snapped, grabbing the water balloons from his hands.

Jack pushed him away and grinned. "What's it to you, Harvey? Your girlfriend ain't here." he laughed, straightening his collar.

"You can't just attack the cheerleading team like that!" Harvey growled, ignoring him and shaking him by his shoulders. "Honestly, why do you have to be the one person to sink that low? You could have hurt someone!"

Jack feigned pity and stuck him bottom lip out, and tilted his head. "Awww, I could have hurt the stupid cheerleaders? My bad, I'll make sure I hit them extra hard next time." he yelled, letting out an uncontrollable manic giggle. "Oh, I'm sure their daddies can dosh out a few grand to get their pretty, dumb heads fixed up!"

That hit a soft spot for Harleen and she strode forward and stood in front of Harvey. "You're a massive asshole, y'know that?" she spat, balling her freezing hands into fists.

"I like to think of it." he chuckled smugly.

She was shaking in anger and as Harvey stepped in to help, she lightly ushered him away. She turned to Jack and met his eyes. His gorgeous, gorgeous eyes... Harley snapped out of it and scowled. "I want you to apologize to the whole of the cheer squad." she ordered, slightly puffing out her shoulders in an effort to make herself look more intimidating.

He smirked and leaned over her. "Oooh? And what are you going to do about that, Harleen?" he mocked, lifting up his palms patronisingly. " _Fight me_?"

She bit her lip and put on a strong face. "Y-yeah! I, I'll have no choice but to fight you... if, if, you don't... apologize." she gulped, furrowing her brow, but secretly shaking from head to toe.

He grinned toothily. "Well, just so you get me straight, dollface," he whispered, leaning closer to her ear. "I don't do apologies."

With that he slammed a knee into her torso and she reclined in shock, clutching her stomach. He pushed her over backwards and grinned. "You don't put up much of a fight, do you?" he chuckled.

She growled and struggled to climb to her feet as he kept kicking her down, but she finally took a grip on his leg and used all of her force to slam him back and use him and get up. Harley stood one foot on his chest and grabbed his neck, squeezing. To her surprise, he smirked and didn't show any signs of pain. She couldn't squeeze any harder, and the odds were in his favor, as he seemed to have quite a strong and thick neck for a gangly boy, and her hands could only almost fit around it.

He headbutted her and she was knocked backwards, her vision spinning and mind screaming, and he thumped her in the cheek. He got to his feet as she did, and they both stumbled around a little disoriented. Her eyes suddenly blazed with the fires of fury, and she swung her leg into his head and he recoiled as it hit him, but he recovered and kicked her in the chest. She used the push to flip backwards and get some room.

Everyone around them was keeping their distance, and backing away as the two moved. The cheerleaders were looking in a sort of terror and piety. The soccer team were waiting for a chance to move, but it was clear on their faces that this 15 year old girl had more bravery than they did.

Without her knowing, Harley took on a personality that had been festering in her mind for her life. She grinned and clicked her wrists, running forward and leaping over his shoulders with her arms. Landing, she kicked the sole of her sneakers into his back before her could turn to face her, and dived out of the way as he tried to back into her. She was caught with his other throw although, and she couldn't avoid his grasp, and he took a hand in her hair and tore her hair elastic.

He tugged her head about violently, and nudged her towards the ground, though she had an almost death grip on his shirt, and they both fell backwards, with Jack on top of Harleen. The latter had the breath taken from her as his heavier build almost crushed her. She used her hands to push away his fists, and couldn't help feeling so flushed from being so close, never mind if it was in a fight. She tasted blood and spat it in his face, and he growled. Harleen grinned but he slapped her battered face, and kept her under him. They stopped, breathless, both bleeding in some place. Their eyes met and stared, and as he neared closer, with only shaking arms holding him up; he gently and secretly licked the blood from her lower lip.

Harley giggled and would have parted her lips, if two of the boys from the soccer squad lunged forward and dragged Jack from her. She whined lightly, and watched him being pulled away, when Harvey helped her up from the ground. Smiling, she wiped her face. "Thanks." she murmured, realizing how much the traces of his punches hurt.

He patted her back and she flinched. "You're braver than you look." he replied.

Harvey Dent was handsome up close. He had a strong face, with gentle brown eyes, light brunet hair combed back. He wore a blue shirt, with 'VOTE FOR HARVEY DENT' printed on the front, with the American flag in the shape of a face.

"I didn't really get into a fight with him on purpose." she giggled, shyly, pushing back her wild, frizzy hair.

"Still." he said, grinning. "You proved a point - don't mess with Harleen Quinn."

She smiled. "Quinzel. My name's Harleen Quinzel." she butted in quickly. "And nice to meet you Harvey Dent."

Jack licked his lips as he was pulled away from the group, though broke free and smoothed his hair back. "Sorry, girls." he laughed loudly, walking off.

"That's the closest I'm gonna get to an apology." Harleen giggled, heading to get changed as Talia announced that the practice was over, and all four of them had been accepted.

She exited a few minutes later in a loose grey tee and violet leggings, and she dusted them off.

She grabbed her satchel, saying so long to Selina and walking out of the gates to the bus station, where she caught a bus to a block or so away from her house. Hearing nothing but the tapping of her shoes against the ground, she sped up, looking around through the rather gentle beaming sun. The streets were fairly empty, and everyone seemed to be tucked away in their little homes. Then, she lifted a hand to her face and felt blood coming from her nose; she padded it with a spare tissue, and used her pocket mirror to check there wasn't any trace that would make her parents think she had been in a fight.

She ran along the streets feeling slightly unsettled, and dived through her front door. Her mother and father smiled at her, holding mugs of hot cocoa, but still looked wore out. Her brother was curled up on the floor with his phone, and had the same temper as he always did.

"School was fine." she murmured hastily. She slipped past them and headed to her room, where she collapsed in a pile on her bed.

...

"How'd you get those bruises?" Stephanie asked Harleen, as the two of them stood naked in the Gotham High girls' showers on Monday. They stood under the lukewarm water and washed the cheap shampoo from their hair.

"Just an accident at cheerleading practice." she replied, looking around at the other girls. She seemed to be the most curvaceous of the bunch, with most likely, except for Mary-Anne who had the body of an Amazon, the largest bust. She blushed crimson.

Stephanie stood out and grabbed a towel to dry off. "Pretty nasty accident." she said, inspecting the rather sore looking mark on Harleen's back. "You fall or something?"

Harleen nodded in embarrassment. It was crazy that people of the same age and gender would be embarrassed over clothesless bodies, but nevertheless all of the girls would take peeks at each other and blush, and see who had the fittest abs, biggest boobs, or who shaved _everywhere_. They had just finished up relay on the track, and all of them were relieved to have a shower.

She wrapped herself in a towel and dried off, before replacing her clothes quickly. The embarrassment was caused over hormones, she knew, but still she was flushed with color and thanked the gods that she was 34DD and kept up with her hygiene. Dressing fully, she called off to Stephanie and headed to her locker. They were red and shaped very much like a coffin, she pondered, putting in the combination to hers and putting her PE kit into it. She decorated the inside with pictures of Andy Biersack, inspirational quotes, and funny pictures of Jared Leto.

Harley grinned and shoved the kit as far back as it could go, then closing and locking the door. As she shut it, she noticed Jack a yard or two to her right, checking his locker, and humming a tune out loud. She slowly turned, hoping he wouldn't see her at first, but then thinking: _"Screw that."_

She walked to him and bit her lip. "Sorry I picked a fight with you yesterday." she apologized, looking up at him.

He turned at the light voice. "No problem, dollface." he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "You're a good fighter. And I didn't mind with you in that skimpy red and black dress, and pigtails. We both roughed each other up quite bad, I'd say." He reached out and played with her loose hair, holding it up like pigtails. Joker noticed the bruise on her lower neck and caressed it.

She quickly turned, nervously looking around the corridor, and seeing no one else there. His eyes were so hypnotising, as they trailed over her skin, and looked down her loose shirt.

"You forgot to put a bra on." he murmured, with a grin and she slapped her forehead.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, and he took her hand without her consent and led her into the janitor's closet. He shuffled past the spare brooms to give her some room and closed the door.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Look away, J." she snapped.

He turned and she pulled off her shirt, grabbing a white lace bra from her bag and clipping it on. As she was putting her shirt back on, he took a quick glance and a small hand shot out and clipped him across the cheek. "Perve!" she said, glaring at him and brushing her tee down.

He was grinning. "Whaaat?" he giggled, trying to look away. "You have nice... yeah." He looked like he was trying to keep something in, and so did she, and they both kept their eyes fixed away. Their breathing sped up, and as she reached out for the door, he pinned her hands above her head and shoved his mouth onto hers.

She returned it in a blink. The quick collision hurt, and she hadn't been expecting it, but it was wonderful. Had she ever thought her first kiss would be with someone like him?

And then he pulled away. And left the closet in a dash. She couldn't help herself wishing he had stayed longer, but reluctantly left too, with no one in the corridor, and sadly ran to her dorm room.

She wasn't going to tell _anyone_ about this.


End file.
